On the rugged shores of Tenerife, the echoes of nature’s fury still linger, as locals and visitors alike reflect on two decades marked by extraordinary weather events. November 28, 2025, saw the Canary Islands pausing to remember the 20th anniversary of the devastating ‘Delta’ tropical cyclone—a disaster that not only battered the archipelago with record-breaking winds but also left scars that remain etched in the collective memory. Yet, just days before this somber milestone, the islands were once again thrust into the headlines by another tragedy: a deadly tidal surge that claimed three lives and injured fifteen more, underscoring the persistent, unpredictable power of the Atlantic.
Back in 2005, the Delta cyclone unleashed chaos across Tenerife, with winds in Izaña reaching a staggering 248 kilometers per hour—the highest wind speed ever recorded in Spain, according to Tenerife Weekly News. The tempest’s wrath was felt most acutely on this island, but its effects rippled across the archipelago. The storm uprooted 44 massive electric towers, each standing 40 meters tall and weighing 20,000 kilograms, along with 150 poles. In an instant, over 350,000 people were plunged into darkness, enduring four days without electricity. The blackout hit metropolitan areas hardest, including Santa Cruz, La Laguna, Tegueste, El Rosario, the Güímar Valley, Fasnia, and Arico. Night after night, the silence was broken by the clamor of pots and pans as residents protested, desperate for answers and relief.
José María Plans, then general director of Endesa in the Canary Islands, described the storm’s impact as “the worst disaster for the company in Spain,” likening it to the infamous New York blackout. The comparison was apt: the infrastructure damage was immense, and the sense of isolation palpable. The cyclone’s human toll was equally grim. In Fuerteventura, a man was swept to his death by the relentless winds, while six sub-Saharan migrants vanished when their small boat capsized 200 kilometers south of Gran Canaria. Hospitals, too, were not spared—patients on the upper floors of the University Hospital of the Canary Islands had to be evacuated after windows shattered under the onslaught.
Daily life ground to a halt. Classes were suspended, roads closed, and airports shut down. At Tenerife North Airport, hurricane-force winds were so fierce that they moved ATR aircraft weighing nearly 150 tonnes, while a 200-meter Trasmediterránea ferry was lifted from its moorings. In Santa Cruz harbor, a tugboat sank, joining about twenty recreational vessels in Tenerife and La Palma that met similar fates. In Gran Canaria, the iconic Dedo de Dios—a natural monument of basalt rock—was irreparably damaged, a geological symbol lost to the storm.
The cyclone brought with it an anomalous rise in temperatures, devastated crops, and uprooted a third of the trees in Tenerife’s capital. Over half the mobile network and nearly 9,000 fixed telephone lines went down, leaving many cut off from the outside world. Stores quickly ran out of batteries, candles, torches, and camping gas, while only a handful of radio stations managed to remain on air, thanks to autonomous power supplies. Communication, always vital in a crisis, became a precious commodity.
In the aftermath, the State Meteorological Agency (Aemet) conducted a comprehensive analysis, describing Delta as a “non-tropical cyclone” that underwent processes of “marine cyclogenesis” and “tropical transitions” before arriving as an extratropical disturbance. The agency’s report, coordinated by Francisco Martín León, noted that prediction models had underestimated the storm’s intensity and trajectory—a miscalculation worsened by the islands’ unique topography. Aemet emphasized the singular nature of Delta’s path, attributing it to “a combination of certainly rare but possible events.” Interestingly, the agency did not link the cyclone to climate change, instead referencing a similar event in December 1975, when another depression transformed into a tropical cyclone near the archipelago.
Fast forward to November 22-23, 2025, and Tenerife once again found itself at the mercy of the elements. According to Daily Mail and regional government reports, a massive wave crashed into onlookers gathered on a pier in Puerto de la Cruz, killing a 79-year-old Dutch woman and injuring nine others. The tragedy unfolded at 3pm, when the unsuspecting crowd was swept from the platform into the churning sea. Local police and bystanders rushed to the rescue, but despite their efforts, the elderly tourist could not be revived. Three of the injured were hospitalized in serious condition, suffering from hip and leg injuries.
Elsewhere on the island, disaster struck again. At Roque de las Bodegas on the north-eastern coast, six French holidaymakers were swept into the sea by another powerful wave after reportedly ignoring warning signs. They were fortunate: none sustained life-threatening injuries, though five required hospitalization, one by air ambulance. Later that afternoon, tragedy struck Charco del Viento, where a 43-year-old local man from La Orotava was fishing when he was dragged into the sea. A helicopter rescue was mounted, but the man succumbed to his injuries. That evening, the body of an unidentified man was found floating off El Cabezo beach in Granadilla, bringing the weekend’s death toll to three.
Authorities had issued warnings the previous day, urging residents and tourists to exercise “maximum caution at the coast.” The regional emergency response team reminded everyone: “Don’t stand at the end of piers or breakwaters, and do not risk taking photographs or videos near where the waves break.” Despite these appeals, the allure of the wild Atlantic proved irresistible to some, with tragic consequences. The Foreign Office later confirmed that no British nationals were among the injured or dead.
The weekend’s events were a stark reminder of the ongoing risks posed by the Canary Islands’ dramatic coastline. Between January and October 2025 alone, 54 people died from drowning across the archipelago, a sobering statistic that has prompted renewed calls for vigilance and respect for the sea’s unpredictable power. The islands remain on alert for coastal hazards, as officials continue to urge caution and common sense.
As the people of the Canary Islands reflect on these twin tragedies—separated by twenty years but united by the forces of nature—they are reminded that, here on the edge of the Atlantic, resilience and preparedness are not just virtues, but necessities. The storms may pass, but the lessons endure, shaping a community that knows all too well the price of underestimating the sea and sky.
